


it's been so hard to bear

by emilia_kaisa



Series: Eurovision Song Challenge [2]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Azerbaijan, Disappointment, EurovisionSongChallenge, Not Beta Read, Self Confidence Issues, Truth, the author has no idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:40:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22531876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilia_kaisa/pseuds/emilia_kaisa
Summary: I'm in the mirrorSo freakin' bitterBut I gotta get throughI gotta get through
Series: Eurovision Song Challenge [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619623
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	it's been so hard to bear

**Author's Note:**

> Today's song for me was 'Truth' by Chingiz. I know this fic is kindaaa vaguely inspired but it's the thing my brain came up with while listenig and didn't want to let go.

_ I'm in the mirror _

_ So freakin' bitter _

_ But I gotta get through _

_ I gotta get through _

He’s not doing that, usually. Drinking his sorrow away. But there he is, in some random bar, almost empty if not counting a few men huddled around a corner table, looking like regulars, playing some card game. It was surprisingly calm, quiet music seeping through the speakers, and a bartender that was glancing at him from time to time, checking if it was time to ask if he wanted a refill.

Javi likes this place, kind of, and he briefly wonders if he will ever have a chance to come back here. He doubts it, and he feels his throat itching again, so he nods at the bartender, who puts a towel away and makes his way to Javi, smile small and professional. 

“Same?”

“Yeah. But maybe, hm, glass of water first.”

The smile on the bartender’s face grows just a little bigger, but Javi knows he’s not laughing at him. It was more of an amusement, or understanding, and Javi’s stomach ties into a knot again, painful, tight, nagging. He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache creeping slowly inside his skull again.

“Here.”

He opens his eyes and sees a glass in front of him, water with lemon and a few leaves of mint. It looks pretty and refreshing, and Javi stares at it for a moment before he takes a sip, water soothing his raw throat pleasantly. He looks up and catches the bartender’s gaze, more open than before, and he wonders if that thing he sees in his eyes is just curiosity or maybe genuine interest. 

Before he can dwell on that, his phone buzzes in his pocket, and Javi winces before taking it out, unblocking the screen.

[Brian: Is everything alright? No one knows where you are, we worry. Give me a call.]

Javi swallows hard and fights an urge to turn his phone off. Instead, he sends Brian a short, calming text and puts his phone back to his pocket, catching the bartender’s gaze and nodding at him.

“This one is on the house.” the guy says and Javi gives him a half smile before taking a sip, strong liquid burning his tongue.

_ Keep it together _

_ Be cool under pressure _

Javi doesn’t like this, these little pity parties he throws for himself from time to time, but after months, years of suppressing some things deep inside, he sometimes needs just a little gateway, only him and his thoughts and strangers around him, not even one recognizing him, and he’s grateful for that. 

He’s used to being alone with his misery. 

Someone told him one day, far in the past, that his own mind was his biggest enemy, and it was so painfully obvious during days like this one, when his thoughts scream loudly and his disappointment burns stronger than taste of alcohol on his lips. 

Sometimes he thinks that he should talk about it with someone, but then he remembers something from years back, a pack of pills that never helped, advices that he could find after three seconds on the Internet. And he’s not that scared, helpless teenager anymore, he’s a grown man who is supposed to know how to deal with his stupid problems. 

And he does know, usually. Just sometimes he has to sit somewhere, listen to whatever has been growing in the back of his mind, have a drink. Dwell on his mistakes, on another disappointing finish, another relationship that fell apart no matter how hard he was trying to hold everything together. 

Sometimes, it’s just too much.

_ It's been so hard to bear _

_ So shut up about it _

_ Shut up about it _

‘Shut up shut up shut up.’

He closes his eyes, and exhales slowly.

It’s all good. He will wake up tomorrow and everything will be better, but now, he will stay here just a little bit longer, drown in his misery for a few more minutes.

His phone buzzes again, and Javi reaches for it with a tired scoff, not in a mood for another scolding message from his coach. But the name he sees on the screen isn’t Brian, and Javi narrows his eyes, swiping to open the message. 

His stomach churns. 

“You okay?”

Javi flinches, and looks up, suddenly really aware of his heartbeat, loud, echoing in his entire body.

“How much?” he asks, reaching for this wallet, and the bartender tilts his head a little, his gaze searching.

“Don’t worry about it.” he says finally “And good luck.”

Javi nods, collects his things and leaves the bar, stopping on the pavement and breathing deeply, taking in cool night air, eyes closing for a moment.

If he wants to go back to the hotel, he just has to turn left and walk for ten minutes, and he would be right there. 

He opens his eyes, and turns right.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
